Chapter 31 Waiting and wanting
Waiting and wanting
DHRUV
I check my watch for the third time in five minutes and immediately feel ridiculous about it.
She said she’d be a bit late. She’d said it casually too, like it was no big deal, like it didn’t matter that I’ve been sitting at the dining table with food growing colder by the minute, my attention nowhere near the plate in front of me.
Sitara had been excited all day—trying very hard to look calm about it, which usually means she’s anything but.
She told me over breakfast that she was going to receive a call today.
Something about a webtoon she’s been quietly working on, something she wants to write and illustrate herself.
A digital comic, apparently. I didn’t know what a webtoon was until I Googled it in a very dignified, kingly manner, and discovered it’s essentially storytelling in art form—something that makes perfect sense for her.
I’d offered to help, of course. Connections, platforms, whatever she needed.
She’d looked at me then—soft but firm—and said she wanted to do this on her own.
I hadn’t argued. Not because I didn’t want to help, but because I respected that look. The one that says this is mine. And I want her to have as many things that are hers as possible.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, dragging me out of my thoughts. I glance at the screen and pick up immediately.
“Dhruv,” Devraj’s voice comes through, gruff as always.
“No hi, hello, how are you?” I ask dryly.
I hear him groan. There’s a pause, stretched thin with everything we’re not saying.
“How’s she?” he finally asks.
I inhale slowly. “You know I would never hurt your sister, Devraj. Stop being such an ass to me.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. He never does.
Lately, this is how all our calls go—he checks in about Sitara, reassures himself she’s fine, then disappears again.
I don’t blame him. He’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to say it.
He’s also working overtime to keep the media at bay, to make sure nothing touches her, not after everything.
My jaw tightens briefly at the thought of Maya.
“Devraj,” I say quietly when he stays silent, “you’re the only friend I have.”
The words come out softer than I intend, but I don’t take them back. He’s my brother in every way that matters. I don’t ever want to lose him.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I was unfairly angry at you.”
“I know,” I reply, and I mean it. “You think I took away your sister.”
“You did,” he mutters.
I smile despite myself. “I’m not sorry,” I admit. “I’m happy. I hope I’m making her happy, too. She looks… fine. Happy.”
“She is,” he confirms. “I talk to her every day. Well—mostly she talks, I listen.”
I chuckle. “It’s like that with her.”
He hums in agreement. “How’s Aadhya?” I ask.
Before he can answer, Sitara’s voice rings out behind me.
“Aadhya? Where’s she? Are you talking to her?”
I turn just in time to see her hurrying toward me, eyes bright, face lit with that particular joy she reserves for her niece she adores. My chest does something stupid.
“No,” I say, smiling, “I was talking to her father.”
She huffs dramatically and snatches the phone from my hand. “Bhai-sa, can I please talk to Aadhya?” She pouts, as if Devraj can see her expression through the screen.
I hold my breath, already prepared to threaten him if he refuses.
“Okay,” she announces happily a second later. “I’ll video call you in an hour!”
She ends the call and plops down beside me, grinning.
Her eyes meet mine and widen. “Oh my god. Were you talking about something important? I just ended the call.”
I laugh. “Yes. We were talking about you.”
Her eyes narrow. “About me? What about me?”
I mirror her expression, leaning in. “About how adorable you look when you talk. And how no one else can talk when you do.”
She gasps. “That is not true.”
“It is, princess.”
She crosses her arms with mock offense. “Fine. I won’t talk to either of you then.”
“Hey,” I protest immediately, lowering my voice. “Please don’t.”
She looks at me then, really looks at me, eyes sparkling with mischief. I know that look. I’m already doomed.
“I won’t,” she says sweetly, “if you dance for me.”
My jaw drops. “You want me to dance for you?”
She shakes her head innocently. “No. Only if you want me to forgive you.”
I stare at her. She blinks up at me, biting her lip like she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
I get up abruptly, pulling her to her feet with me. “I do want you to forgive me,” I say. “So I’m going to dance.”
I pull her closer, her body fitting against mine like it always has, like it always will. She gasps softly when I start moving, slow and unhurried.
“Why are you so cunning?” she murmurs, smiling now.
“I have to be,” I reply, smirking. “To survive this world.”
She shakes her head and rests it just above my heart. I draw gentle patterns on her waist, acutely aware of every place we touch. She relaxes against me, and I know she can feel how fast my heart is beating.
She doesn’t say anything about it.
I don’t need her to.
“Will you go on a date with me, princess?” I whisper.
And as I wait for her answer, a familiar fear stirs quietly in the back of my mind.
The fear of becoming my father. Of dulling her light.
Of turning into someone who takes more than he gives.
I’d promised myself I would never marry.
Promised I’d never bring someone into a life shadowed by that legacy.
And yet here I am.
Stuck—with a girl I’ve loved quietly for years. A girl who gives me hope without trying. A girl who feels like home without demanding it.
And I don’t know what to do with that? I don’t know how to resist her.